The Devil’s bridge Marged was a poor old widow who lived on the banks of the river Mynach. One afternoon in wintertime when the daylight had faded early, Marged stood on the banks of the river. She watched the water swirl past her in high flood to fall over a great rock in the river bed. Marged had watched the river in high flood before, and although she looked at the river, her mind was elsewhere. She was grieving for her cow: Old Marged Glandynach of Pontymynach Had lost her only cow: Across the ravine Malen was seen But to get it she could not tell how. "Malen! Malen!" Marged cried, but the cow continued to nibble as thought to say that sweeter grass grew on the other side of the river. "How you got there indeed I do not know", " how I shall get you back, is more than man can tell!" Marged paced the riverbank. "Woe is me!" she exclaimed, "Whatever shall I do?" Marged was speaking to herself, and not expecting any answer. Great was her surprise then when a voice cried from behind her "What is the matter Marged?" Marged turned in fear. She was glad to find that no evil spirit had spoken to her. Before her stood a man clothed in the gown and hood of a monk. Around his waist was a rosary, and as he spoke the man fingered the beads. Marged had not heard him walk across the meadow, and she did not know where he had come from. She remembered however that she had been worrying about Malen, her cow. "Woe is me!" she cried, glad to have an audience for her sorry tale. "Look there on the slope beyond the river, there is Malen, my only cow, and a beautiful cow she is too. However am I going to get her back? Woe is me Woe is me" Marged buried her face in her apron and sobbed bitterly. The monk laid his hand upon her shoulder. "My poor old woman" he said very gently "do not worry, I will bring her back". Marged showed her surprise in her face. "How will you do that?" she asked "I will tell you" said the monk. "I have a hobby, it is to build bridges; if you wish Marged, I will build a bridge over the falls for you." "I wish you would " declared Marged excitedly, "but I am a poor widow woman, I have very little money, and you are sure to ask a big price for building a bridge over these falls. Whatever shall I do?" The monk looked at her curiously. "I never drive a hard bargain with the poor" he said." Many say I am easy to please". He smiled and pretended to think deeply. "I’ll tell you what I’ll do" he added. "I will build the bridge, to repay me, you shall give me the first thing that comes over the bridge. Do you agree?" Marged agreed. "Go home to your cottage" said the monk "I will build the bridge and call you when it is ready. I won’t keep you waiting long". Marged obeyed the monk. Yet in passing him, she realised there was something strange about the holy man, she could see the shape, of two horns standing up under his cowl. His face was very dark-almost black, thought Marged. His eyes shone like red-hot coals. He never drives a hard bargain he said, Marged thought to herself as she sat on the hearth. Why did he ask for the first thing to come across the bridge? He means to have my precious cow. He will not have her! Marged stamped her foot to show that she had made up her mind that Malen should remain hers. But how could she repay the monk? Marged sat and thought. When the monk called on her to come to the river falls, Marged persuaded her little dog to follow her. "See Smala I have a crust for thee" Marged threw a piece on the path, and the dog leapt after it. When Marged reached the river the monk pointed to the fine bridge he had built. "Have I not built it well over these steep and treacherous falls?" he asked. Marged was slow in praising his handiwork. "It looks a fine bridge" she said grudgingly, "But is it a strong bridge? Tell me". "A strong bridge?" exclaimed the monk "of course it’s a strong bridge!" "I have my doubts" Marged said "Do you think it is strong enough to bear the weight of this loaf of bread when I throw it onto the bridge?" She drew a small loaf from under her cloak and showed it to the stranger. The monk laughed out loud and long." Will the bridge bear the weight of that loaf?; you throw it on and you will see!" In her pocket she fumbled, a crust out-tumbled, She called her little black cur The crust over she threw, the dog after it flew, Said she "the dog’s yours crafty sir" The monk was speechless, he had made the bargain to gain possession of Marged’s cow ."I do not want your dog," he snarled, "I have no use for him". With that the monk, striking the ground three times with the hoof that served him for a foot, vanished in a cloud of smoke and flame. "He was the Devil sure enough," cried Marged. Then she called to Malen to come over the bridge. Marged drove the cow homeward, and Smala ran behind, wagging his tail with joy that he had not been made to follow the evil spirit that had built the Devil’s bridge.
